


Nagomi Makes a Deal

by chicagotime



Category: Blaseball (Video Game)
Genre: Memory Loss, horror-ish?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28757280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chicagotime/pseuds/chicagotime
Summary: Things start to go wrong for Nagomi.
Kudos: 4





	Nagomi Makes a Deal

It started in the Nut (did it?).

It started when she emerged from the Shell screaming, the fresh air stinging her flesh (no that doesn’t sound right).

It started after the Coin left, the reverberations of her voice still shaking the ground (of course it didn’t, she knows it didn’t, come on)

It started… after season 5? (yes, but when?)

It started when she made a deal with the Mother (did she? was that what happened? did She really rip her head from her body? was it taken away, and then put back? or was it replaced by something else? did she really take the deal in exchange for… for...).

It started. And now Nagomi Mcdaniel is here.

She first noticed during a game (with? against? all the uniforms look the same, right? there are too many team colours) the Jazz Hands. She kept forgetting which base she was on (how? she was _on the pitch,_ she could _see_ where she was, she didn’t forget anything), and when they won, her teammates (which teammates?) kept congratulating her for keeping up a winning streak she didn’t remember creating. She dismissed it. She was probably just tired (was she? how much has she slept lately? how much did she sleep yesterday? what about two days ago? three? four? has she slept at all? she can’t remember it, so it probably didn’t happen).

Slowly, it gets worse (how slowly? how much did she remember before? how much has been lost? how much was never here?). She forgets which team she’s on, which teams she used to be on (she’s been on the Jazz Hands _twice?_ when?). Past teammates become hopeful faces she can’t put a name to (who is the baby? how about the ram? how old are they? what do they like?) that talk to her about events she smiles and chuckles at, but can’t remember (she was in a food fight? that doesn’t sound like her. are they lying? she can’t ask if they are because then they’d ask if she remembers and she’d have to say she doesn’t and that would make her an asshole and they’d look at her with those eyes she remembers seeing, but not how or when or why). 

Once, a concerned wooden mannequin wrapped in claws and strings asks her if she’s alright. For a moment, she doesn’t remember his name (or his voice or the way he always makes pinocchio jokes or the wood polishing kit he always keeps on him just in case or how surprisingly soft his hugs are).

She ignores it until the Crabs ascend.

Suddenly, she’s at the Fridays (is she _back_ at the fridays? did she ever leave? maybe she just visited those other teams), and has to pretend she still remembers her teammates. Her friends. Her wife. (have they noticed yet? have they found her out? have their faces frozen mid-conversation in the realisation that she doesn’t remember _her own teammates_ anymore? has she even talked to them yet? she talked to fletcher once, but what about the rest? they definitely don’t act like she hasn't talked to them yet - ) She doesn’t remember how they act anymore. How they smile. How they frown. Whether or not they like her. What their personalities are like. Their habits. Their hopes. Their dreams.

She quickly realises that she’s out of her depth in every situation, constantly trying to smile and laugh and joke and hmm and nod and cry and talk with _everyone_ as if she’s known them for years (she has, but that’s not the case anymore, is it? how long can she keep this up? how long before they realise and turn their backs on her but she still has to play with them, because she can never truly leave the game, not now, not ever? how long can she still pretend to be a person?).

Eventually, she moves back to Baltimore (wow, she still remembers how to get there?) and builds herself a hut out of carapace and splintered wood. Every day, she wakes up and tries to remember the teammates she lost (their _faces_ are still there, of course they are, it’s just that the specific details of their faces and their voices and how they said hello in the morning and what they used to do with her on their days off and how they used to pitch or hit and what they used to wear and who they were, as the people she can no longer see herself knowing, because as far as her mind is concerned, she never really knew them). Every day, she fails to find anything ‘new’. Every day, she wakes up and finds that something else is missing from her mind, and knows that it’s only a matter of time before she wakes up and fails to remember anything, because nothing is left to remember.

Some days, she can feel what was taken from her. She sees her mind, once a grand hall stuffed to the brim with tomes, now a shadow of its former glory, an avalanche of shredded paper scattered across the room in place of the books. The shelves, once a polished mahogany, are now dull. Each and every shelf has been broken in half, splinters smothering every surface, and the walls have been gouged by claw marks that are easily ten times Nagomi’s size. She wishes she knew why.

Nagomi Mcdaniel sits alone in a hut in Baltimore, and reflects on what little she has left, and the curse she may have dealt herself.

Other people can avoid their worst fears, but she is constantly living hers.

**Author's Note:**

> What happens when someone projects onto a fictional character? This mess, apparently.


End file.
